THEORY OF SINGULARITY ; kento nanami

𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 ━━ 𝘪 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘺

The queen . . .

Surely, it was pleasant in ears, yet it was nothing but a vain name that the society made up. You had no desire to hold a position, because you couldn't find a life in that way.

The corner of your lips curled up, scoffing silently.

They heard you, nonetheless.

"How dare thee!"

Only by then, you felt a hand grabbed your hair harshly, your primmed hairstyle went ruly.

"A mere wench hast put forth mockery, attempted to undervalue and looketh down upon us?"

You almost rolled your eyes. This was why you hated people who clung to their title.

"Doth not disregard that we hath no husband!"

Yes, the king married them, yet what was he looking for was a queen. And he found it in you.

"Saith that this woman with unknown decent wilt be the queen? Such foolishness!"

Although their glaring eyes pierced through you, and the grasp on your hair was hurting you, you didn't protest nor let an emotion painted your face.

"Say something, you prostitute!"

You only sighed, getting tired of their nonsensical proclamations.

"If thine traveler is a prostitute . . ." you said impassively, ". . . and thus unto all of thee."

It sounded putrid in their ears, so a hand landed on your cheek. They even scarred you with their polished nails.

"This woman!–" It stung once again when someone had slapped you in the face– "Not all prostitutes are the same! A fine line hath separated between the upper class and lower class. Know thy place!"

She was still holding your hair, cheeks swollen from their assaults. But you somehow wanted this: ruining your attire and appearance, for the thought of rejecting you once seeing you scarred.

You simply smiled, eyes were void from emotions. "Lower class, upper class . . . It weighs the same vanity. Thou still a prostitute."

You chuckled once your provocations reached the offensive mark to their pride.

"Insolent wench!"

They pulled your hair harder, beat you up with their precious hands, and cursed your mere existence. They even took a platter of food and a flagon of wine and poured it onto you.

"Thou art ashamed not? Thou lowly wench who came from nothing, now wearing extravagant clothing and accessories?"

Isostress IV, the ruler of Kemi, had never shown any signs of favor to the concubines, yet he gave it to you. If by chance, you would be the queen, all of them would be disregarded; they couldn't just let you tore them.

All of their frustrations, anger, annoyance, and enviousness were freed along with the strikes of their palms, yanking of your hair, and curses through words.

You seemed to have no intention to retaliate; you had somehow accepted this to happen just because of simply living.

"What are you doing?!"

A voice rose in the middle of the ruckus. Upon hearing him, the concubines froze, fear slowly elevating from the soles of their feet up to the strands of their hair.

As for you, you didn't expect him to come, so you sighed, facing the other direction against them.

"Thou heard the king not?"